


Haglian Nights

by MelissaKeith



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gen, Haglia, Languages and Linguistics, Medieval, Reincarnation, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29744049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelissaKeith/pseuds/MelissaKeith
Summary: A person from our world dies and is reborn in Talma, the second-largest city of Haglia, which seems to be a pseudo-European medieval kingdom; here you can read letters he wrote about his new life and the ways he made use of the knowledge he gained in his old life.Title is subject to change.





	Haglian Nights

My dear Lenrien,

I hope that this letter finds you safe and in good health. I know that Raramir is in a state of unrest, but I have been assuring myself that you have the best protectors that one could hope for. I am writing to you today to tell you at last the story that I promised you.  I feel the need to forewarn you; I find no pleasure in sharing this tale with you. Had I not sworn to do so, you can be assured that I would have kept it to myself. But I am not one to break promises, and so I will instead compromise by telling it as I felt it, commentary and all.  I imagine Margen will have told you what I told her, that I am far older than I appear; I lived and died and was reborn into this body that I have now. I will need to provide you with more concrete details regarding my past life, but I think it will be easier to introduce them in the order in which they proved relevant.  You may have heard that I was once an urchin in the Dien district of Talma. That rumor, at least, is true. My birth mother bid someone abandon me in an alley there on a clear summer's night, when I had seen six seasons already.

I can recall in nearly perfect detail what occurred before that - my birth, that woman, living in her household. From what I overheard I know that I was born at midwinter, the morning after the Ruan blood moon, and that she believed me to be possessed by an evil spirit. I was not her first child, and not the first that she despised - but you may agree that she was not entirely wrong about me. 

At six seasons old I could walk, run, say a few words and recognize a few more - but possessed or not I still was not capable of independence. I was half-awake as my mother's man brought me to Dien, but I realized only at the last moment what was occurring. "No, no! No go!" I cried and cried, clutching his robe with all my strength; his scarred face showed sympathy, but he pulled his clothes out of my grip and left me there anyway, jogging back to the main street where he had tied up his horse. I had no hope of keeping up, didn't even try - I was bare but for the blanket he'd wrapped me in when we left the house, and knew I would fall if I ran at all for I was unaccustomed to going barefoot on such a harsh surface.

I had knowledge enough to know that I had been left to die, but that the scarred man had chosen this place in hopes that I might somehow be saved. My nursemaid had spoken of Dien in enough detail that I could recognize it under the moonlight - her nicest term for it had been "the immigrant quarters", but it had long been Talma's poorest district and had a reputation for violence, theft, and cruelty. The buildings were ramshackle, built against the western wall; some were circular and constructed from sticks, river mud, and grass rather than the black stone and sangrin thatching which characterizes Tarimese homes. There were other strange styles as well, all optimized for quick construction, often without ventilation beyond the cracks in the walls and holes in roofs. 

I stood for a long time that night where he had left me, staring blankly at the night sky. My heart beat loudly long after he was gone, but still it was hard to accept my turn in fate. It was strange how quiet Dien was that night, with no one else in sight; I might have thought it abandoned if not for the smoke still gently seeping through roofs. The moon went down in the time that it took for something to break the silence - a dog yelped a couple alleyways over, startling some chickens into a tizzy. I heard a croaky voice scold them, and realized that I couldn't understand a word it said.

I had spoken two languages before I was born into this world, but neither one sounded anything like Canluenese and I found it more difficult as a result. The Dien dialects - for there are many - would prove even more troublesome. That realization led me to the understanding that I was not just physically weak, but also unable to communicate; and it was then that fear gripped me. My eyes watered, and I could barely breathe. I started walking, fell, and got back up; I must have cried out, because a woman stuck her head past the nearest drape and hissed something at me. I rushed her, feeling some desperation to have something, but she pushed me to the ground before I could stumble into her home. Along with a stream of curses, she pointed me away. I was bawling by this point, and I heard answering howls from other homes. There was nothing but irritation in that woman's face, and so I went away, trying to quiet myself. A few other heads poked out to see the source of the ruckus, but disappeared as soon as they saw me. I was tempted to break into someone's home anyway, to demand some comfort. 

Instead I kept going, dragging myself along and scratching my feet on debris and the weeds growing around stones in the alley road. It occurred to me at some point that the main road would be better maintained, and possibly have more friendly people, so I turned to a gap between two shelters - to find a body there, huddled up against the wall. 

I hesitated, but they appeared to be asleep, their side rising a little as they breathed. As I hobbled toward them, their breath hitched, and I paused. She rolled over, eyes still closed, but there were tears on her face and impulsively I went to sit beside her. I fell against her, actually, but she didn't wake. Something about crying in one's sleep seemed to indicate an innate goodness, to me, especially when I had also been crying. I was too anxious to sleep, at first, but as I sat against her exhaustion came upon me slowly and I nodded off.

I think I woke briefly when she did, when she repositioned herself to hold me close, but I didn't come to full consciousness until dawn. I noticed first that the street was glowing red; then that I could feel a quiet song vibrating through my chest; and finally that I was being cradled to someone's chest. I tried to sit up, and she had to catch me to keep me from falling. Her face looked even more kind in the light of the early morning, like a statue of the  _ Virgin Mary  _ \- well, you wouldn't recognize that name. She looked something like Canluen, an ideal motherly figure.

"Good morning, Ruandal. Good morning," she crooned. I knew just enough to know that Ruandal was a name, one she was aiming at me. I didn't understand who she thought I was, but I felt in my heart that she would be my savior.  That was how I met Dienus Thylden, the woman responsible for raising me into the man I am now. In future letters I will tell you of my childhood with her, but for now I will leave you with this.

Yours in good faith,

Dyrus Ruandal

**Author's Note:**

> Any response you have for this work is greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading!


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